


Shatter

by eating-mooncakes (Catherine_Mooncakes)



Category: Keeper of the Lost Cities Series - Shannon Messenger
Genre: Depression, Gen, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:21:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24415057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catherine_Mooncakes/pseuds/eating-mooncakes
Summary: This piece, which is not strictly canon compliant, takes place during Sophie's kidnapping in the first book. Keefe is devastated by the news of her "death"; here is what takes place after he finds out.Trigger warnings: Suicidal thoughts, depression
Relationships: Sophie Foster & Keefe Sencen
Comments: 5
Kudos: 21





	Shatter

_ Don’t shatter. _

_  
_ Keefe closed his eyes.

_ You can’t shatter. _

A tear leaked out of the corner of his eye. He let it come.

_ Why shouldn’t I shatter? _

The thought crept in, invading until it was all he could think about. He had no reason to live unshattered when Sophie was gone.

_ Dead. _

He sobbed, tears now pouring down his face.  _ Shatter, _ each whispered to him.  _ Shatter, shatter, shatter. _

He had no real family. Even the Vackers had pushed everyone away since Sophie’s death. No one knew how to handle it.

_ Just shatter. _

But Sophie wouldn’t want him to shatter.

His breathing came faster and faster. Why shouldn’t he let go and drift into the void? Be lifted out of this pain? Sophie wasn’t coming back. Sophie wasn’t here. And no one loved him. No one would mourn for him.

_ Let go. _

Keefe slipped into the darkness.

\-----------------------------------------------------

_ Come back. _

A soft voice penetrated Keefe’s consciousness, but he wasn’t strong enough to reach for it.

Memories pounded him. Hugging Sophie when she cried. Fitz laughing as they played base quest. Making a joke that brought joy to those around him.

But it wasn’t enough to pull himself back. More memories overwhelmed him. Cassius yelling at him for disappointing the family. His mother ignoring him as he asked for help. He was a disappointment. There was no point in living. He didn’t deserve to live. He was better off shattered.

The good memories fractured, disappearing into his mind. He tossed back his head and laughed. There was no point in keeping them. He let the darkness come again.

\-----------------------------------------------------

_ Keefe, I need you. _

Keefe thrashed as the voice came again. Why couldn’t it leave him alone? Why did it want him to come back?

_ Keefe, please don’t leave me. _

The words shoved into the darkness like a spear, tears falling from them.

And Keefe listened.

The voice sent more memories. Biana laughing at his jokes. Dex grinning at his praise. Reassuring Sophie.

_ But Sophie is dead. _

Thick, hot anger poured into his mind, suffocating the voice of calm. But then the voice broke through with one final transmission.

I’m  _ Sophie. I’m alive. _

\-----------------------------------------------------

Keefe’s eyes whipped open and he sat up.

_ Sophie. She brought me back. _

Gentle arms enveloped him. He closed his eyes and rested his head on Sophie’s shoulder. Everything would be okay.

\-----------------------------------------------------

Weeks later, Keefe lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Sophie was back. His friends still loved him. And the dark didn’t feel quite so suffocating when he lay down at night.

  
Everything wasn’t perfect, but he was happy.

He played base quest with his friends. They worked together on their homework. His father had even offered a few kind words at some points. He still couldn’t seem to catch his mother’s attention, but life at home was bearable when he had friends to turn to again.

Maybe everything didn’t have to be perfect for him to be okay. For his life to be worth living.

He walked over to his white desk and pulled out his sketchbook. Flipping through, he found his newest drawing.

All his friends stood together, smiling. Sophie was laughing, her arms around Keefe’s neck. Fitz and Biana were looking on, smiling. Dex was standing in front of them, making faces. It was a small moment, but it was perfect.

No matter how long he had, 80 years, 800, or 80,000, maybe he would be okay. Maybe there were small bits of hope he could cling to when the dark tried to creep back in.

And maybe shattered tears didn’t have to mean letting go. Maybe they could bring healing.

He could choose to let them.


End file.
